WeLcOmE tO tHe NeIgHbOrHoOd
by Ravyn van Adel
Summary: While on a camping trip to better their relationships, the nations find themselves face to face with a faceless creature that has emerged from the heart of the forest looking for a friend. (Well, you can't really be face to face with a faceless person...so it's more like face to...erm...)
1. Willkommen in der Nachbarschaft

_**Welcome to the Neighborhood**_

**GERMANY**

Germany ran; he wasn't exactly sure where he was running to, or what he was running from – it was scary, that was what it was – but he knew he had to find the rest of the countries and escape before he was ripped in half just like that little girl. Stinging tears of pain filled his blue eyes and leaves caught in his now-messy blonde hair, but he didn't care; the cuts across his exposed limbs stung like hell, his jaw was clenched tightly shut to keep from screaming, his nails were digging into his palms and his feet were beginning to hurt but despite all this he kept running…and right behind him ran the horror of the woods.

_Why is he running? I just want to be his friend…_

Germany never looked back; he knew his voice would fail him, so he didn't cry out for help or to warn the others of who – or what – he had found. He also knew they wouldn't believe him, but judging by the wretched state his clothes were now in, he was sure they'd believe his crackpot theory that a tall, faceless man was following him for no reason whatsoever. Prussia was already back at camp…he hoped. He hadn't seen the albino since he announced that "I have to take a piss!" and promptly walked off into the depths of the forest, so he was desperately hoping with every fiber of his being – the few that weren't focusing on running – that Prussia was back at camp with England and the rest of them. Behind him, he was sure the faceless man was still behind him. Despite all the hard work and training his body was used to, he felt his strength leave him. He was failing, and fast.

_Oh, he's slowing down…does he want to be my friend as well?_

Germany let a few tears loose and bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from yelling Italy's name out. He knew Italy wouldn't save him – he had a better chance at getting France to admit that he was gay than asking Italy to come and save him. He took a deep breath, nearly fell into a tree and shoved a couple of branches away from his face, panting like a tired dog the entire way.

_At least he hasn't found any of my old friend's notes…those would make him think I'm a bad person._

Germany never noticed that the faceless man had left him alone, that the faceless man had teleported away or even noticed that he was starting to fumble in the dark. His chest heaved and contracted painfully, but he didn't care; cramps started forming in his shins and heels but he shrugged it off and kept running. He only stopped running when he reached the six-acre clearing near the camp. When he finally managed to stop his aching feet from trampling something pale white amidst the withered leaves, he could feel his entire body trembling.

"Mein Gott, I've never been this scared…" he mumbled to himself, collapsing to his knees. The faceless man watched from afar, too shy to approach the strange new friend he thought he had made.

_Are you okay, friend? Do you want some water? You look tired…_

Germany buried his face in his hands, pulled his knees to his chest and cried. Yes, he cried. Tears rolled down his cheeks in hot, wet blobs and his lips trembling, pulling back to allow a single pained yell escape from his throat. He doubted anyone heard it…

_Oh…he's crying…did I scare him?_

Germany continued to cry and felt his fingers wind their way into his disheveled blonde hair. His legs were bleeding profusely now and his toes were curling and uncurling in his boots; the straps of his tank top were ripped to shreds; one was lying on the ground, ripped in half, but Germany didn't care. When he finally stopped crying, he managed to sit up and inspect his surroundings through burning blue eyes. "Where…where am I?" he whispered; his lips were chapped, so he licked them.

_Is he hungry?_

Meanwhile, up in his hideout, the slender man in the immaculate suit watched his friend and tilted his head to the side. _Maybe I should tell him I won't hurt him?_ He wondered to himself and was barely aware of the tentacles rising from his back. He took a deep breath, focused his energy on his friend and attempted to telepathically communicate with him.

_Hello?_

Germany froze. "What…in the…" he said aloud, looking around nervously. Someone had said something…but who? He was absolutely positive that he was the only one in that clearing, and his already-racing heart sped up at least 100%. "Wh-who's there?!" Germany yelled, reaching for the pistol he had abandoned a few yards back. The metal was warm; it hadn't been long since he last used it on the faceless man.

_I don't want to hurt you._

Germany swung around so fast that his neck cricked and came face-to-face with what he had been running from this whole time. The faceless man, the strange man who haunted the forest wearing a flawless suit, had silently walked up behind him when he wasn't looking and tilted his head to the side, giving him an ominous look in the moonlight. Just the sight of this man's pale, formless face up close made Germany snap.

_I won't hurt you. Just listen to me._

"Like hell I will!" Germany reached for his pistol and fired a few successful rounds into the monster's chest. The shells bounced off the forest floor and Germany kept firing even after he ran out of bullets. The faceless creature merely stood there, but with one difference: black blood, thick and cold, ran down the wounds in his body, but he had never moved when he received the wounds.

…_ouch._

Germany's eyes grew wider and wider, his fingers trembled and dropped the gun to the ground. "Wh…what…what are you?!" he screamed, his vocal cords slowly ripping till he could scream no more. The faceless man merely tilted his head to the other side and reached inside his wounds to retrieve the bullets from them. Germany shook even more and blindly took a step back, then another, and then made a full-fledged sprint for the camp.

…_jerk…I only wanted to be friends._

The faceless man dropped the used bullets to the ground, brushed the blood off his hands onto a handkerchief in his pocket and turned around to head back to his home in the heart of the woods.

_Will no one be my friend?_


	2. Welcome to the Neighborhood

**Welcome to the Neighborhood**

**ENGLAND and AMERICA**

"What the bloody hell is that thing?!" England managed to whisper to America before the faceless man noticed him; he wasn't too hard to spot, what with his bright blonde hair obvious against the dark shadows of the forest. The faceless man waved to him, hoping that this blonde man would be his friend, but England had another idea. "We need to leave. Like, now." He violently shook America's shoulder, who was still urinating on the base of a tree. "Dude, can't a dude piss in private?" he said, glaring at England, who was now staring at the faceless man with a horrified expression on his pale face. "Y-you might want to take a look at this…" he whispered; America sighed. "What is it?" he said, zipping up his pants and turning around to look at what England was now trembling at. As soon as his blue eyes caught sight of the faceless man now heading towards him slowly. "Wh-what is that?!" America whispered frantically, grabbing England's hand in a scared attempt to make sure that he wasn't the only one seeing the monster. "That's what I just said, you bloody twat!" England whispered back, taking a step back and squeezing America's hand tightly to the point the circulation cut off. America didn't notice, however, and began to run. "W-wait!" England shouted, being dragged by the arm through the forest and stumbling over fallen logs and nearly falling into a tree. "This is no time to be an idiot, England!" America yelled, his heart racing in his chest and his hands shaking horribly.

_Where are you going?_

"Don't look back!" England screamed as he watched America slow down. "No, wait, dude, hold on…" The faceless man, who hadn't moved since the twin countries started running, had dropped his hand and merely stood there with his head tilted to the side like a broken doll.

_Maybe I should follow them…_

Neither England nor America turned around; they just kept running, and running, and running till eventually America's legs gave out. He skidded to a harsh stop face-first into a tree and broke his nose; when he stood up, blood flowed down his face in rapid streams; blood entered his mouth, and he spat a hefty mouthful of it onto the ground. England's heart thudded in his chest, his body ached all over and he wanted to run, but he knew he couldn't leave the younger nation by himself – he would make the mistake of trying to take the faceless monster on. "A-are you alright?!" England asked, grabbing America's hand and pulling it away from his bleeding nose. "Dude, I-I'm alright…" he shakily said, and when he stood up, England could hear his leg snap. America let out a scream of pain, collapsed to his knees and cried. England felt his heart burn at the sight of his little brother in so much agony; he knew the faceless man was gaining on them, so he gently picked America up and decided to make a break for it. He slung the American boy over his shaking shoulders, took one last look behind him – the faceless man was behind a tree, his long fingers wrapping around the bark like a child to a lollipop – and ran for it.

_Did I do that? Did I hurt that poor boy?_

When he finally opened his eyes, America noticed that they weren't in the same spot anymore. He was, however, painfully aware of the warm blood gushing out of his nose, the agony his broken legs and broken nose were causing him and definitely of the face that his legs were wrapped around England's waist. "D-dude…what are you doing?!" he asked quietly, detangling his hands from the fabric of England's cardigan. "Just shut up!" England snapped in reply. He wasn't about to let America see that his older brother was scared out of his mind. Behind them, the faceless man watched.

_They're just like the other blonde man…_

From behind his tree, the faceless man reached in his pocket and pulled out the shiny silver pistol the other blonde man had. The barrel was empty, but the handle still felt warm despite the incident having occurred at least two years ago. He didn't know where the other blonde man had gone – he was planning on returning his gun even though he had shot him with it – but he hoped he'd be back soon.

_Maybe they went to get the other man? I really don't want to hold onto this anymore…_

The faceless man dropped the pistol into the leaves beneath his feet, watching it bounce off the ground like a ball. He tilted his head to the other side, confused.

_Why won't anyone listen to me?_

**BONUS: **When they finally reached camp, America and England were panting like dogs, sweating profusely despite the cold night air and were still attached to each other: America's legs were wound around England's hips, his feet positioned just so that he wouldn't accidentally kick England in the crotch when he ran. His nose had stopped bleeding and it still hurt, but not as much as the following incident did.

"Eh…England?" China was the first to speak; France, on the other hand, was laughing too hard to speak. "Ah, Angleterre, do you not realize what you are doing?!" he cackled, clutching at the ruffles on his shirt. England glared. "And what am I doing?" he snapped at the Frenchman. China raised a sleeve to his mouth to prevent laughter from escaping, Russia bit his lip and France continued to laugh. "Well? What's so funny?!" he yelled, his chest heaving from what it endured previously.

"What did you and America do in there?" Russia asked, tilting his head to the side. England felt his heart swell with a second wind. "You'll never believe this! There was this faceless -"

"Oh, we don't believe you."

"Eh…I haven't even said anything yet…" England sighed. China crossed his legs. "Faceless thing? Like a dragon?" he asked, brushing his ponytail off his shoulder. Russia giggled. "A faceless man!" England's eyes grew wide. "How did you know?"

"There have been rumors, da?"

"Rumors?"

"Da!" Russia then broke out in hysterical laughter. "Oh, you and America look so funny!" he laughed, pointing at America's bloody face and England's tattered clothes. China laughed as well. England, on the other hand, was determined on finding out what exactly the rumors were.

"Tell me!"

"Mm…nyet. I like watching you run." England felt his brain go numb. Had everybody else heard that?! Or was he the only one?!

"Wh-what do you mean, _run_?"

"Huh?" Russia's laughter stopped suddenly and he adjusted his scarf. "I never said anything about running…" He smiled. "I like airplanes better…but…my back disagrees." For added affect, he rubbed his back. England ignored the laughter, ignored the talking and only heard static for the rest of the night.


End file.
